Court
by sorenalice
Summary: He needed a new lawyer, he decided. Unfortunately, it was too late. The jury was already off to wherever they go to contemplate things.


_So, I do realize that I have like, 5 other fics I need to update, but I've reached a bad point with those. I have half-written chapters waiting to be finished, but a massive writer's block, and no time. So, I am sorry, and I plan to update all of them within the next month, hopefully. So yeah, enjoy. Reviews are obviously appreciated._

He stood at the center of the court, hands grasping at the sleeves of his stiff dark suit. His mom had gotten him that suit. It was too formal. He wasn't exactly the kind of person who could wear classy looking things for too long. Just a plain shirt and jeans from target and he was set. The tie felt like it was choking him, like a turtleneck, or a really weak person hugging his neck just a little bit too much. The suit was almost too big for him. Or at least if felt like it. It was supposedly perfectly tailored, but to him if felt like he was wearing shoulder pads and his hands were too short for his sleeves.

The carpet was red, stained to an ugly brownish color with all of the dirt and muck on the bottoms of the shoes that had passed through before him. He briefly wondered who the owners of those shoes were.

Were they criminals? Heroes? Mothers? Fathers? Did they belong there or not?

Were they like him?

He held back a bitter laugh at the thought. No one was like him. They had made sure of that.

He looked up at the judge. An older man. He had ugly wrinkles around his mouth that made him look like one of those ventriloquist dummies. His cheeks dangled from his jawline, like a bulldog's. A bulldog. That's actually a very good comparison. His eyes were small, set deep into his face, and dull green. Sweat beaded on his shining, hairless head, probably because of the chandelier-type-thing hanging directly over his head, illuminating the humid courtroom. His eyebrows were long, somehow. Like they actually looked like they needed a trim. There was one spectacularly long eyebrow hair that was slicked up a half inch into forehead territory.

Danny shifted his gaze to the witness they had called. Agent B of the GiW. Here to present some "facts" about ghosts. His teeth were yellowed and his head was a whole nother light source. How do they even get their head so bright? Do they polish them, like with a buffer or something? Completely unnecessary and impractical sunglasses covered the agent's eyes, but Danny knew they were a dark brown, almost black. It seemed pretty accurate, Danny thought, that his eyes would reflect the void of his soul.

Danny sighed anxiously and turned his head back. Not a lot, but enough to so that he could see his family and friends, and lawyer, seated behind him. His lawyer, Maureen Algrieves, esquire, was a plump woman, barely out of law school, working as a state-offered attorney. It was all his parents could afford. Ghost hunting wasn't exactly lucrative, despite all the ghost activity, Danny made a point of taking care of that. He didn't regret it though. He saved who needed saving and that was that. At least they're safe today.

There was nobody on his side of the courtroom but his family, friends, and lawyer, and he was pretty sure his lawyer wanted to sit on the other side of the courtroom too. She didn't seem like she liked him much. In fact, he read over all the evidence, and most of the stuff that would fight for him wasn't used. He needed a new lawyer, he decided. Unfortunately, it was too late. The jury was already off to wherever they go to contemplate things.

His mother's eyes were stained red. She'd been crying, not wanting to lose her youngest child. She noticed his gaze and gave an encouraging smile, prompting the rest of the group to do the same. Tucker even game a feeble thumbs up before he caved in on himself, hunching over his lap and sobbing. Jazz pat his back, tears leaking down her face. She sat stiffly, the only movement being breathing and her rhythmic rubbing. His father wept into his hands, his normally gleeful face was depressed, angry, and fearful. But he still grinned up at Danny, trying to make everything seem like it was okay. Sam was stoic. The only one with a dry face. Danny knew why.

There were no more tears she could shed.

They all knew this wouldn't end well for him.

The result of his trial was already decided, and he knew it. There was no way he ever had any hope of winning.

Not with the GiW wanting a test subject. Not with the normal citizens wanting a safe place to live. Not with people like Sam's parents, who sat on the opposite side of the courtroom, glaring at him and their daughter.

Ghosts were dangerous. Scum. Not to be trusted, and definitely not allowed to date your daughter.

But Danny was still human. Human enough, anyway. He still thought the same way he always had, maybe just a few priorities switched around when it came to protecting people, but he was still him. Yeah, he felt different, but who wouldn't after being shocked into a half life?

He sacrificed everything, but it still wasn't enough.

Danny gave a weak smile back to his family, and turned to the front of the courtroom. The anti-ectoplasm cuffs chafed at his wrists, enough that a little of his freakish christmas blood leaked out of thin slices in his skin, droplets sliding down his hands and falling to the drab carpet.

If he were human, this wouldn't be a problem. He wouldn't even be wearing cuffs. But he was a ghost, with ghost powers, and the cuffs disabled those while he wore them. They weren't designed to be comfortable, in fact they were the GiW's design, so they were designed to be the opposite of comfortable. But really, couldn't they have given him some bandages or something? He was staining their floor, did they really want his blood staining their floor? Ectoplasm never washes out.

He stared at the small puddle of green and red blood congealing at his feet, slowly drying out and becoming permanent.

Maybe they would sell this carpet for money.

Like, ten years from now, they would have the exact square of carpet cut out, displaying his blood for all to see.

"Come and see! The blood of Danny Phantom, spilled on the day of his sentencing! Step right up and touch the very ground he stood on when his fate was decided!"

He was jerked out of his thoughts when the door in the back of the courtroom swung open, allowing the jurors to walk in, their faces dark and serious.

His heart skipped a beat when the jury foreman's eyes met his, and all he saw was pity. Not like she was sorry for whatever was about to happen, but pity for the poor creature she was about to run over with her massive Ford Escalade. Not really sorry, but sorry that she had to be the one to do it. She swung her head away from him, fixed her pink shaul, and carefully permed hair, and sat, her white gloved hands in her lap. She glanced back at him one last time, this time with conviction, and took a deep breath.

He could feel it happening. It felt like he shut down. His stomach lurched, bubbling with anticipation. His breathing slowed, each breath heavier than the last. His throat felt quivery, like it was preparing to scream. His legs started twitching, trying to get him ready to run, but all they would do was cave.

The jurors lined up in their seats, not daring to make eye contact. The foreman cleared her throat and spoke, every word hitting Danny like a knife to the heart.

"We the people of the jury, find that Daniel James Fenton, AKA Danny Phantom, is not human and does not deserve a human's rights."

Danny felt his world implode.

Cheers erupted from the other side of the courtroom.

Danny fell to his knees, his last sliver of hope finally cut by the jury's decision.

He felt nothing but wrong.

Their decision was wrong.

He was human, he had rights.

They couldn't do this, could they?

His mother's hands wrapped around him, pulling him into her lap as she wept, holding the son who was 6 inches taller than her like an infant in her arms, whispering "It'll be okay. It's going to be okay, Danny. It's okay. Okay, okay, oka-" Before she cut herself off with a sob.

Through his tears, he looked up, into the cold eyes of the GiW agent, his sunglasses dangling casually from his hand.

He saw euphoria in his black eyes.


End file.
